Behind The Mask
by ferretfan4eva
Summary: Hermione comes back to Hogwarts as Head Girl, but much to her dismay, with Malfoy as her counterpart. On the surface it seems that neither has changed over the past seven years, but deep down is the real story...Not as cliche as you might think!no HBP spo
1. Memory

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this. (Nah, you don't say?)

Chapter 1: Memory 

"It's _Wingardium Levi_o_sa_, not _Levios_a! She's a nightmare, that one!' Ron complained loudly.

Hermione was crushed. She had been trying so hard, harder than she'd ever worked in her life, to make sure that she was at the same level as everyone else at Hogwarts, but instead, she'd ended up being classed as a know-it-all.

She'd studied tirelessly every day of the holidays, memorising her textbooks because she assumed that everyone from wizarding families would naturally _just know_ all of the information, because they had grown up with it. Little did she realise that wizards or not, they had no advantage over her whatsoever.

She couldn't take it any longer. AS flood of tears gushed down her face and she headed in the direction of the toilets. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She attempted to hide her tearstained face

'Hermione, what's the matter?' it was, of all people, the pale boy who had introduced himself to Harry on their first day. Draco, wasn't it?

'Oh, nothing, I'll be fine' she replied pathetically, but then burst out into tears all over again. Awkwardly, Draco put an arm around her in comfort. 'It's just what Ron said, that's all.'

'Who? Ron Weasley?'

'Yes, that's him.'

'Don't listen to anything he says! He's a stupid git!' Draco replied, with a hint of malice in his voice.

'Well, it's not just him. The thing is, I was so scared that I wouldn't fit in and that I'd be behind, coming from a muggle family and…'

'What?' Draco cut her off. 'You're not a pureblood?'

Hermione gazed up at him. He was looking at her with… distaste, no, disgust.

He recoiled from her and walked away without another word.

This was the last straw for her. She fled to the bathrooms, sobbing with all her heart.

A/N: Tis only the beginning, more of a prologue than a chapter. If you have something to say, please do so via the 'review' button at the bottom of the page! (Hint, hint!) Will update ASAP:)


	2. Newts and Owls

Disclaimer: I own nothing. What else is new?

Chapter 2 

Excitedly, Hermione gazed out of the window as she ate her breakfast. It was a glorious day: the sun was blazing and the sky was clear. Abruptly, a tawny owl soared in through the exact same window she was looking through.

This was what she'd been waiting for. She abandoned her breakfast and tore the letter open. As she did so, a small metal object hit the table with a _chink_! Hermione's jaw dropped as she retrieved it.

'Head Girl?' she gasped out loud. She stood in awe for a moment, admiring the highly polished red badge. The gold initials 'HG' glinted in the sunlight. She smiled as the thought struck her that not only did 'HG' stand for head girl, but also Hermione Grainger. _It must be my destiny! _ She joked to herself.

It seemed crazy that eight years ago, never in a million years would she ever had expected this. At that stage, she was taking subjects along the lines of maths and English, rather than arithmancy and potions. Eight years ago, she had no knowledge whatsoever that she was even a witch!

After shooing away the tawny Hogwarts owl, that had begun pecking at her now soggy porridge, she skimmed through the rest of the letter. Her face fell, though, when she read her N.E.W.T. results. _An 'E' for History of Magic? How could that be? I was the only one who actually bothered to pay attention and all I got was an 'E'! _

Contentedly, Hermione lay stretched out on the living room floor, a purring Crookshanks beside her. _ It will truly be fantastic to return to Hogwarts, It seems like months since I visited the Burrow last week! _ Lazily, she flipped through her booklist for the fourth time that day. _Hmm… I wonder who'll be head boy? Ron? No, impossible. There are plenty of better boys in our year. Although, he is a prefect…Harry? That's a possibility, his marks are generally reasonable and Dumbledore knows what he's capable of. But then again, he wasn't a prefect. Who else was there? Malfoy? Surely not! I'm sure Dumbledore's aware that he'd abuse the privilege, and it would go straight to his head. Anyway, Dumbledore would never choose someone with morals as low as his… _she trailed off, sinking deeper into her own thought until she fell asleep, still cosily snuggled by the fireplace.

A/n: thanks so much to everyone who took the time to review! I know the first couple of chapters are pathetically short, but they'll get better! I promise!


	3. Malfoy's Triumph

Disclaimer: This is not mine. Hooray for me.

**Chapter 3: Malfoy's Triumph**

Eagerly, Hermione glanced around, taking in a heavy draught of her animated surroundings. Her senses were flooded with exotic smells, lively colours, vociferous voices-all of which were merely a commonplace for Diagon Alley. If there was anywhere that Hermione loved just as much as Hogwarts, it was here.

Habitually, she glanced down at her watch. _They're late. Typical._ She mused, still smiling. Right on cue, Harry and Ron became visible, pushing their way through the busy crowd.

"Mione!" they called cheerfully. She waved in return, beaming at the sight of them. Although they'd written often, she hadn't seen them since the end of term. As soon as they wee within reach, she jumped up and threw her arms around each of them in turn. But as she let go of Ron, she noticed that his ears were rather pink, and do were her cheeks. Feeling slightly awkward, she regained her composure and sat back down.

" It's great to see you both! What've you been up to?" she asked, once they'd all seated themselves around one of Florean Fortescue's tables.

"Oh, nothing much, mainly Quidditch practise. Have you finished that essay of Snape's? It took Harry and I nearly four hours, it was like the exam all over again!" Ron replied, shuddering at the memory of it.

"Oh, that… I finished it ages ago. I hope I wrote enough about the sleeping draught, my method was only three paragraphs..." she trailed off, noticing the frightened looks on both Harry's and Ron's faces.

"_Three!" _they gasped in unison.

"Oh, I knew it! I should've done more! Now I'm going to have to do it all again!" she wailed, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Hermione, we barely wrote one! How can you possibly worry? When have you _ever_ not written enough?" Ron retorted exasperatedly. Hermione turned puce.

"Speaking of which, why aren't you wearing your Head Girl badge?" Harry asked, smirking at her. There wasn't a single doubt that she hadn't earned the position.

"Why aren't you wearing _your_s?" she retorted, realising too late her mistake.

"Because I'm not Head Boy." Harry answered flatly. "And neither is Ron."

Hermione gaped at them in astonishment. Who was it then? She was sure that it would've been Harry, or if not, Ron. This revelation had turned her stomach upside down. It meant that she would be paired with someone unfamiliar, and potentially hostile, for the rest of the year.

Sensing the awkward silence, Hermione stood up and announced,

"We'd better hurry up, we've got so much to buy this year. Did you see the size of the booklists?" And with that, they set off down the crowded street.

After a visit to Madam Malkin's, the Apothecary, Eelop's Owl Emporium and Quality Quidditch Supplies, they headed for their final stop, Flourish and Blott's. All three were chatting happily as they entered, but were rudely shocked out of their euphoria when they came face to face with their arch nemesis.

Draco Malfoy was standing by the doorway, with Pansy Parkinson clutching his hand in such a way that it was a mystery as to how his fingers hadn't dropped off yet.

"Well, well, well. Potter, the Mudblood and the Weasel. Fancy seeing you here." He sneered, adding another volume to a large stack of books nearby. He whipped out his wand, and Harry and Ron did the same.

But instead of mounting an attack of some kind, he merely began to levitate his book pile towards the counter.

"C'mon Pansy, if we stay here any longer we might catch something from them." He drawled, while Harry and Ron tucked their wands away embarrassedly.

As he strutted away he turned back and faced Hermione.

"Oh, and Granger, you're not Head Girl, are you?"

Hermione flushed crimson.

"What's it to you, Malfoy?" she replied, her temper rising.

"I was just wondering if I should buy this book," he answered smugly, as he levitated a brightly coloured paperback towards her. She snatched it out of the air and read the title aloud "_Non-Verbal Curses and Jinxes For Enemies: They'll Never Know What Hit Them! _But what does that have to do with whether I'm Head Girl or not?" she snapped, the anger rising in her throat.

"Perfect for when we're on patrols together, don't you agree?"

Hermione boiled over.

"WHAT!" she shrieked at him, causing the rest of the store to turn and stare. "YOU? HEAD BOY?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought you could read, Granger." He drawled, unaffected by her outburst, as he motioned towards two shiny badges on his chest. "Head Boy _and _Slytherin Quidditch captain."

Hermione couldn't take it any more. She whipped out her wand.

"I'll show you what you can do with that book, Malfoy!" she screamed.

Suddenly the book whizzed towards Malfoy and out of sight. Before anyone really knew what was going on, Malfoy yelped in pain and fled from the store, the book beating him about the head as he did so.

"Are you alright, Sweetheart?" Hermione's father called as he knocked on her bedroom door. "Can I come in?"

"No, I'm alright. But I'd just like to be alone, thanks." She replied between sobs.

Discovering that Malfoy was Head Boy had destroyed her. She'd imagined her final year to be one of happiness, enjoyment and responsibility, but now the prospects were of a constant living hell. Malfoy was determined to do everything in his power to ruin it for her. _How could Dumbledore do this? He knows that Malfoy will abuse the position! _

Feeling utterly miserable, Hermione lay down on her bed and wept.

Author's note: Thankyou so much to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate it. Please give me your opinions on this. I welcome criticism, as long as it is constructive. And also, If you are reading this and know of/have written some good HGDMs please tell me so because I'll add them to my C2. (If you don't mind, of course!) Thanks again!


	4. Painful Patrols

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

SlytherinPrincess16: Sorry that I haven't replied to you for a while, I have been intending to do so while reviewing the next few chapters of your story, so I will do so ASAP! I hope you like this chapter though. Sorry!

Thankyou so much once again to everyone who reviewed my last chapter, it really is appreciated. I hope you enjoy this latest addition!

Chapter 5: Painful Patrols 

Rather sourly, Hermione dragged her feet down the hallway of the Hogwarts Express. She was only moments away from her doom, for she had been condemned to a year's worth of Draco Malfoy.

All day she had been attempting to stick to the constant mantra of _it's not that bad, it's not that bad..._ but unfortunately it hadn't quite sunken in yet. Before she knew it she was standing in front of a compartment marked "Head Prefects" in small gold lettering. Sucking in a deep breath, she swung open the door and stepped inside.

Malfoy sat opposite Professor McGonagall, smirking, as always. On the other hand, Professor McGonnagall looked thoroughly stern. As Hermione entered, she looked up and her expression softened slightly.

"Good Afternoon, Miss Granger. Please take a seat beside Mr Malfoy so we can begin." She said, inclining her head towards the seats. Reluctantly, she sat down, but avoided Malfoy's sneering stare as she did so. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

"Firstly, I would like to congratulate you both on gaining the positions of Head Boy and Girl. I must warn you though, this position does not represent power and glory; it is a symbol of responsibility and trustworthiness. There are many tasks that you will be expected to complete, and you will need to set a fine example for the students, particularly the lower years. I have a letter for each of you describing this in more detail, but if either of you feel that you are not ale to sustain the high standards required for this position, please inform me at once so I can arrange a substitute." She surveyed them both over her glasses, as if inspecting them for faults.

"I believe that is all, so please take the time to read your letters, and I will see you at the commencement of the feast." And with that, she swept out of the compartment and down the hallway.

Before Malfoy could slip in a snide remark, Hermione had engrossed herself in her letter. At the very bottom, after Professor McGonagall's signature, was a small "P.S." It read: _"Congratulations Miss Granger, you are the 500th Head Girl from Gryffindor house! I am sure that you will do a fine job this year. Good luck!"_

Hermione couldn't help but smile. That was just like professor McGonagall, to keep score of such odd statistics.

Abruptly, she looked up from the parchment.

"Well, is that all, then?" she enquired in a business-like tone. Malfoy shot her a dirty glare.

"I believe so. Now will you please do me the courtesy of leaving the compartment? You see, your mudblood stench is making me nauseous. Another minute and I might have to perform the Bubblehead charm." He replied maliciously.

"My pleasure, I assure you." She retorted icily as she strode out of the compartment, slamming the door loudly behind her.

Slightly happier, Hermione sidled off the Gryffindor bench in the Great Hall, feeling significantly heavier than she had been on the train. She was just about to join Harry and Ron back to the common room, when a small, weedy-looking second year boy rushed over to her.

"Th-this is for you, from P-P-Professor McGonagall!" He stammered, holding out a folded piece of parchment.

"Thanks." She replied as she took it from him. Without further ado, she hastily unfolded it and read its contents, desperately hoping it was informing her of Malfoy's resignation. No such luck. It read: _"You will be required to patrol floor five of the castle at 8:15pm tonight with Mr Malfoy. Please meet outside the Great Hall. From hereafter patrols will resume as normal."_ Disgruntled, Hermione stomped off towards the common room, all prospects of a pleasant evening ruined.

Back in the common room, everyone seemed to be heartily enjoying themselves: a bunch of rowdy fifth years were holding an exploding snap tournament, a group of girls, including Ginny, were toasting marshmallows in the fireplace, and Harry and Ron were deeply engrossed in an animated discussion about whether they could commit every single foul against Slytherin in a single quidditch match this year without Madam Hooch noticing. As much as she tried to join in, her mind kept wandering back to Malfoy, and how suddenly his remarks seemed a hundredfold more hurtful, despite the fact that he'd been repeating them for the past six years.

Resigning, Hermione retreated to the girl's dormitory for some peace and quiet. Sighing, she collapsed onto her luxurious four-poster and pulled out her copy of _Standard Book of Spells Grade Seven_, and began to re-read the chapter on human transfiguration.

Before she knew it, it was five past eight and time for her first patrol.

"Thank goodness for books!" She muttered as she headed off towards the Great Hall.

As she strode down the corridors, her wand guiding her way, a brilliant idea came to her. Instead of having the same old argument with Malfoy, she'd try a different tactic tonight. Besides, their relationship, or lack of, surely could not get any worse, and if this technique didn't work, she had all year to experiment with new ways of tolerating him. What was there to lose?

With a spring in her step, Hermione reached the Great Hall with five minutes to spare. So she waited. And waited. And waited. Suddenly it occurred to her that perhaps Malfoy wouldn't show. It was now twenty-five past, so surely he should be here by now. Of course, she didn't expect him to be early (Malfoy would never Show signs of eagerness) but still, ten minutes late for the first patrol of the year was definitely not a good start.

No sooner had Hermione given up hope of Malfoy coming, did he appear around the corner, looking as snide and stony as ever.

"Well, shall we get started, then? Which way is quickest to the fifth floor?" Hermione asked brightly.

"Err, there's a tapestry further down, and behind that is a staircase leading straight up. That's usually pretty quick, I think. " Malfoy answered quite politely, caught off-guard by her cheeriness. Realising his slip, he added, "Because if we take too long, I'll run the risk of catching fleas from you!" as his face contorted back into its trademark sneer. Hermione smirked triumphantly into the darkness.

Fifteen minutes later, after a painstaking silence, Hermione decided to attempt to break the ice.

"Wow, you must be concentrating _really_ hard on those non-verbal curses and jinxes; you've barely insulted me all night!" She exclaimed, in a tone of mock interest.

"That's because keeping my mouth shut is the only way I can refrain from vomiting all over you-just the thought of having to do this all year makes me sick to the stomach!" he retorted maliciously. However, Hermione remained unscathed.

"Tsk, tsk, Malfoy. Not at all up to your usual standard. But then again, it must be quite challenging to have to come up with so many ways to try and offend me, so I'll let you off this time." Hermione replied, with a Malfoy-worthy smirk.

Abruptly, he stopped dead, spun around and met her smug stare. He was utterly seething.

"Look Granger, just shut up. Okay? Shut up."

Hermione stared at him in shock.

"If you want to live through this year, just shut up and get on with the patrol. Don't try to be smart, don't try to be funny, don't try to make conversation, just walk and keep your mouth shut. Get it?" He looked so fierce that Hermione nodded obediently at his request. She felt like a naughty two year old being reprimanded by her mother.

Hermione spent the remainder of the patrol mentally kicking herself. _How could I have been so stupid? Malfoy was, for once, attempting to be civil, and I had to open my big mouth and rub his nose in it!_ After what seemed like a decade, they finally returned to their starting point, and went their separate ways without another word.

Little did they know; the silence wouldn't last long.


End file.
